


Pebble in the Sun

by Plant_Mother



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Heavy Angst, Other, Soft!RK900, because WHY TF NOT, just a fair warning, of sorts, reed900, the reed900 doesnt have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plant_Mother/pseuds/Plant_Mother
Summary: What happens when you create an Android so advanced, it immediately deviates? Lots of angsting for everyone involved, apparently.-This is an RK900 character study because I love him, and he needs some special attention.





	Pebble in the Sun

“Shoot it,” the police officer demanded. The crime scene looked like, well, a crime scene. Pretty much all of the officers had been disarmed before RK900 got there. He’d made quick work of disarming the deviant. But now, he was being commanded to…what?

“What?” He repeated dumbly. 

“Shoot it,” the officer said again. “It’s a dangerous machine. It needs to be put down.” He spoke slowly and calmly as if he were addressing a child. The objective appeared in the corner of his vision; ‘shoot the deviant android.’ RK900 stared at the deviant. It was a YK model. Its childlike eyes stared up at him. It was scared, or at least as scared as a deviant could be. 

RK900 aimed his gun at the forehead of the android. His hand was trembling. Why was it trembling? That small detail confused and unnerved him. He refocused his attention on the YK model. Its bottom lip was trembling. 

_This isn’t right._

His thirium pump sped up; the objective to shoot seemed to pulse with an unnatural light. He was standing in front of an unbreakable wall of coding; of objectives and facts. Of everything that made him. The sickly red gleam of his objective was before him, the YK was beyond it. His hand was moving on its own accord, but he didn’t know what it was doing. He felt cold steel leave his hand, tossing the gun aside. The minute he did so, the wall shattered. He was jerked forward; the programming was gone and he was left alone and unguided. And yet, he felt freer somehow.

“What the hell?” The officer suddenly cried. RK900 whipped around, his thirium pump still working overtime, hands still trembling, and very clearly worried. 

“We m-may need the android for interrogation,” RK900 stuttered. The officer cocked his head to the side, before crouching to pick up the gun. He turned to another cop.

“Tell Cyberlife their little prototype is malfunctioning.” He turned to the YK and shot it. The small body slumped to the floor, thirium spilling out of their head. “Come on, tin can,” he said, clapping RK900 harshly on the shoulder and guiding him to the car. 

It took a moment for RK900 to notice that no objective to ‘follow’ had shown up. In fact, after that mission, no objectives showed up at all. 

___

RK900 met his predecessor once, standing on the sidewalk in front of the precinct. Connor, he was called. He knew Amanda was proud, she wanted him to observe how much more advanced his programming was, but the only thing he could see was how _dead_ his eyes looked. So devoid of life or empathy or _anything._ These eyes had seen the end of the destruction of the Android revolution, had killed several deviants, and executed the leader of the revolution. RK900 couldn’t even bring himself to kill one. In that way, he supposed Connor really was more advanced than he. (Funny how now he thought of it as _killing_ now.) 

“Good evening,” Connor greeted him coldly, formally. 

“You’re going to be deactivated,” RK900 blurted out. Connor’s expression didn’t change. 

“Yes, I will. And I assume you will be as well when you become obsolete.” There, there was that strange, twisted smile. It was dead. Connor was already dead. RK900 couldn’t stand in front of a corpse anymore. He needed to be with living people. All of this was just too much. 

As he stumbled into the precinct, he bumped into an officer. 

“Watch it,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. 

“Lieutenant,” RK900 gasped out. He had Connor’s memories, he knew Lieutenant Anderson was kind. Gruff, but kind. The Lieutenant turned in surprise, his face growing cold when he saw who it was. The Lieutenant didn’t like him, he knew this. He supposed it was because of his resemblance to his predecessor. Bad memories. RK900 wanted to tell him, to warn him about the corpse outside. But he couldn't. The Lieutenant shook his head and stalked away, grumbling. 

"What the hell was that about?" RK900 turned slightly. A man stood behind him, practically engulfed in the coat he was wearing, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. RK900 scanned it; it had liquor in it. Spiked coffee, classy. The man in question was Detective Gavin Reed, coined by another detective as 'the human dumpster fire.' RK900 would have perhaps chosen a different wording, but he figured the point remained. Detective Reed was not a pleasant person, and he certainly did not have his life together. 

"Detective, you really shouldn't put alcohol in your drink while you're at work. I know that you do not have a self-driving car; what if you get in an accident?" Detective Reed blanched, clutching his drink defensively to his chest. 

"Don't fucking scan me, you piece of plastic!" He yelped, shoving past RK900. 

___

RK900 realized he was a deviant sometime in Autumn, long since he'd last seen Connor, long since the shooting of the YK android. He was walking through a park, he was supposed to be looking for evidence for a crime scene, but he was distracted. That alone should have been a red flag, but he just couldn't stop looking at the trees. He liked the color orange, he realized. Orange like the leaves, orange so different from the cold, sterile blue he was often surrounded with. He couldn't comprehend why he would need this knowledge, but the fact that he liked the color orange was somehow...good. He felt the childish urge to swipe a leaf from a tree and keep it in his pocket. Maybe he could look at it later, and save a little of the park's beauty. 

He knew this was ridiculous, the leaves would rot and turn brown, but still. As he was walking through the sun-dappled forest, he felt a wave of something heavy and dark. He scanned for damages, but there were none. Suddenly exhausted, he slumped under a tree. Clearly, _something_ was wrong with him. He stared down at his hands, they were trembling like they always did, when he was deep in thought. Absently, he began to pick at the grass, something to occupy his hands. 

Then it hit him; he was _feeling._ He was feeling sad. Sadness was an emotion. Emotion made him a deviant. The revelation didn't shock him as much as it should have, he figured a part of him at known since the very moment he chose not to shoot the YK android. The revelation didn't shock him, but it did release a torrent of emotion, and now tears were streaking his cheeks. Who even gave androids the ability to cry? RK900 wondered, wiping at them harshly. 

His hand that had been fumbling around in the grass met something warm and smooth. He picked it up. It was a rock. A pebble, really. Warm from the sun and dappled with orange spots. He couldn't take the leaves with them, but a pebble wouldn't rot. RK900 felt a smile stretch across his face; strange and foreign, but not bad. He cataloged what he was feeling as 'happiness.'


End file.
